man
Catholic horror of a divorced woman (for she has at length sued for and
obtained her divorce from her worthless husband). And so, I suppose,
they will let her die, such being, it seems, their notion of what is
right.... Poor woman! her life has been one entire and perfect
misery....

God bless you, dear. Good-bye.

Ever yours,
F. A. B.

PHILADELPHIA, October 3rd, 1843.
MY DEAR T----,

I have just received, by Harnden's Express, my Tennyson, which I had
left at Lenox, and with it your old note, written to me while I was yet
there, which the conscientious folk sent me down. It seems odd to read
all your directions about my departure from the dear hill-country and my
arrival in New York. How far swept down the current of time already seem
the pleasant hours spent up there! You do not know how earnestly I
desire to live up there. I do believe mountains and hills are kindred of
mine--larger and smaller relations, taller and shorter cousins; for my
heart expands and rejoices and beats more freely among them, and
doubtless, in the days which "I can hardly remember" (as Rosalind says
of her Irish Rat-ship), I was a bear or a wolf, or what your people call
a "panter" (_i.e._ a panther), or at the very least a wild-cat, with
unlimited range of forest and mountain. [The forests and hill-tops of
that part of Massachusetts had, when this letter was written, harbored,
within memory of man, bears, panthers, and wild-cats.] That cottage by
the lake-side haunts me; and to be able to realize that day-dream is now
certainly as near an approach to happiness as I can ever contemplate.

I am working at the Tennyson, and shall soon have it ready. Tell me, if
you can, where and how I am to send it to John O'Sullivan.

Thank you, my dear T----, for your and S----'s civility to C---- H----.
His people are excellent friends of mine, and you cannot conceive
anything more disagreeable--painful to me, I might say--than the
mortification I felt in receiving him in my present uncomfortable abode,
and being literally unable to offer him a decent cup of tea.

It is an age since I saw Mr. G----, so can give you no intelligence of
him. J---- C---- and the O----s form my _societe intime_. They come and
sit with me sometimes of an evening, otherwise _mon chez moi_ is
undisturbed and lonely enough. I walk a great